Run: 2026-09-23-01M37HEXZ3CVVX9MZH6TEEPRZ9

Molly spread the birthday invitation across the café table like a blueprint. A cartoon dinosaur grinned from beneath her elbow. Bill, who had dressed entirely in black for a planning meeting at noon, leaned over it with the gravity of a surgeon. “Three o’clock,” Molly said. “Parents arrive, children swarm the cake, and presents collect in the sunroom.” “How many presents?” “Enough to need two trips.” “Then we need a van.” “We need a distraction. The sunroom opens straight onto the garden.” Bill studied the invitation. “Why have they invited us?” “They haven’t. Mrs. Bell slipped it through my door by mistake. She meant number twelve.” “That’s our way in, then. We arrive as number twelve.” “Number twelve is a house, Bill.” “A house could send representatives.” Outside, a bus hissed to a stop. Molly drew a box around the words COSTUME PARTY with her pencil. The plan had seemed simple when she’d counted the presents in Mrs. Bell’s upstairs window. She hadn’t accounted for the host knowing every family on the street. “We’ll need costumes,” she said. “Something that keeps our faces covered.” “A dinosaur?” “There’s already a dinosaur coming.” “Two dinosaurs?” “One inflatable dinosaur takes up half a garden. Two would trap us beside the shed.” Bill folded his arms. “What about magicians? We could make the presents disappear.” “Into what?” “A hat.” “Mrs. Bell’s got six grandchildren, Bill. We’d be there until Tuesday.” He took out a notebook and wrote MAGICIANS, then crossed it through. In the window behind him, Molly could see herself wearing sunglasses indoors. She removed them before Bill could point out that Mrs. Bell might remember her from Tuesday’s book club. “We could be delivery people,” he said. “Delivering what?” “A gift. Then we leave with the others.” “She’ll ask who sent it.” “We say it’s a surprise.” “You say that whenever you don’t know an answer.” “It usually buys us time.” “It got us banned from the aquarium.” Bill’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then went still. Molly knew that look. Last time it had involved a borrowed ladder and a very public apology to a window cleaner. “What?” she asked. “It’s from Mrs. Bell. I said I could help set up.” “You know Mrs. Bell?” “She’s my aunt.” Molly stared at him. The waitress arrived with two coffees, took one look at the invitation, and moved discreetly away. “You let me plan a burglary at your aunt’s house?” “I was going to tell you.” “When?” “Before we got there.” Bill turned the phone toward her. Mrs. Bell had sent a photograph of the sunroom. Beneath a bright banner stood a table piled high with wrapped parcels, each labeled FOR THE HOSPITAL TOY DRIVE. Molly read the labels twice. Bill closed his notebook with one finger, leaving the crossed-out magicians visible. “She needs someone to carry them to her car,” he said. Molly picked up her coffee. “Fine. But I’m wearing a costume.” Bill looked relieved. “She asked if we could come as magicians.” “Ask her whether she has a hat big enough.”